The Nameless Castle by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER II
"Everything is ready," said Master Matyas to Vavel, pointing towardthree covered luggage-wagons, which the Volons had captured from theFrenchmen at Klein-Zell.
The "Death-head troop," as Vavel's Volons were designated, marched inthe rear of the brigade; consequently they could drop out from it anytime without attracting special notice.
To-day the brigade marched toward Palota, and the Volons turned into theroad which led to Zircz. They seemed, however, to have been swallowed upby the Bakonye forest, for nothing was seen again of them after theyentered it. The inhabitants of Ratota still repeat tales of the handsometroopers--every man of them a true Magyar!--who rode through theirvillage to the sound of the trumpet, nodding to the pretty girls, andpaying gold coin for their refreshment at the inn. But the dwellers inZircz complained that, instead of Magyar troopers, a squad of hostilecavalry passed through their village--Frenchmen in blue mantles, withcocks' feathers in their helmets, with a commandant who had given allsorts of orders that no one could understand. Luckily, the prior of thePremonstrants could speak French, and he acted as interpreter for theFrench commandant. And everybody felt relieved when he marched fartherwith his troop.
These were the transformed Volons. They had exchanged their crimsonshakos in the dense forest for the French helmets, and wrappedthemselves in the blue mantles taken from the luggage-wagons. No onewould have doubted that they were French _chasseurs_--even the trumpetersounded the calls according to the regulations in the armies of France.
Master Matyas hurried on in advance of the troop to learn if the way wasclear. It would have been equally unpleasant to have met eitherHungarian or French soldiery. They encountered neither, however; and atdaybreak on the second day arrived at the village of Boercs, on theRabcza, where is an interesting monument of times long past--a redoubtof considerable extent, in the center of which stands the villagechurch.
Vavel's troop camped within this redoubt, where they could escapeattracting attention. The country about them, for a long distance, wasoccupied by French troops.
The highway which led to Raab might be seen from the steeple of thechurch, and here Vavel took up his station with a field-glass.
He had not been long in his tower of observation when he saw a heavycloud of dust moving along the highway, and very soon was able todistinguish a body of horsemen. It was a company of cuirassiers, whosepolished breastplates glittered in the sunlight like stars. The companywas divided into two squads: one rode in front of a four-horsetraveling-coach, the other in the rear of it.
There were two ladies in the coach. The elder of the two shielded herface from the dust with a heavy veil; the younger lady wore no veil overher pale face, but held in front of it a fan, from behind which she tookan occasional look at the variegated plain, where the ripening grain,blended with the green of the meadows, formed a rich, carpet on eitherside of the road.
The young officer riding beside the coach sought to entertain the elderlady with observations on the country through which they were passing,and from time to time exchanged tender glances with the younger. Theseladies were the wife and daughter of General Guillaume. They were ontheir way to Raab, where they expected an addition to their party in theperson of _la Princesse Marie_, whom they were going to accompany toParis. The troop of cuirassiers was their escort.
"There come some _chasseurs_ on a foraging expedition," observed theyoung officer, pointing toward a body of horsemen that was approachingacross the green plain.
And, judging from the appearance of the riders, he was right; for theVolons, in order to deceive the Frenchmen, were bringing with them acouple of loaded hay-wagons, which they were dragging through the middleof the highway.
While yet a considerable distance away from the approaching _chasseurs_,the postilions began to blow their horns for a clear way.
The hay-wagons were turned, in obedience to the signal, but, in turning,the second one ran into the one in advance with such force that the polewas broken clean off.
In front of the barricade thus formed Vavel halted his men, andcommanded them to throw off their French cloaks and helmets. In a secondthe order was obeyed; the crimson shakos with their grim death-headswere donned, and the troop dashed forward upon the escort accompanyingthe coach.
The astonished cuirassiers, who were wholly unprepared for the assault,were soon overpowered by the Volons, who also outnumbered them.
The youthful leader had at once placed himself in front of the coach,ready for combat with the leader of the attacking foe, and Vavel wasobliged to exercise all his skill to disarm without injuring him.
At the moment when the young French champion's sword flew from his hand,the younger lady, forgetting all ceremony, cried in terror:
"_Oh mon Dieu, ne tuez pas Arthur!_"
Ludwig Vavel turned toward her, bowed courteously, and said in Talma'smost exquisite French:
"Do not be alarmed, ladies. You are perfectly safe. We are Hungariangentlemen!"
"But what do you want of us?" demanded the elder lady, haughtilysurveying the count. "What business have we with you? We do not belongto the combatants."
"I will tell this brave young chevalier what I want," replied Vavel,turning toward the youthful leader. "First, let me restore your sword,monsieur. You handle it admirably, only you need to grasp it morefirmly. Then, let me beg of you to mount your horse--a beautiful animal!And third, I beg you to ride as quickly as possible to Raab, and giveGeneral Guillaume this message: 'I, Count Vavel de Versay, have this daytaken captive the wife and daughter of General Guillaume. The generalholds as prisoners my betrothed wife, Countess Themire Dealba, and myadopted daughter, Sophie Botta, or, if he prefers, _la Princess Marie_.I demand my loved ones in exchange for Madame and MademoiselleGuillaume.' I have no further demands, monsieur, and the sooner youreturn the better. I shall await you in yonder redoubt, where you seethe church-steeple. Adieu."
The younger lady, with hands clasped pleadingly, mutely besought theyouthful officer to assent. As if he would not do everything in hispower to urge the general to consent to the exchange! The youngFrenchman galloped down the road toward Raab. Count Vavel took his placebeside the coach, and ordered the postilions to drive to Boercs. Atfirst, the general's wife heaped reproaches on her captor.
"This is a violation of national courtesies," she exclaimed irately. "Itis brigandage, to waylay and take as prisoners two distinguished women."
"Madame's husband has also detained as prisoners two distinguishedwomen," in a respectful tone responded Vavel.
"But my daughter is so nervous."
"There is not a more timid creature in the world than my poor littleMarie."
"At all events, monsieur, you are a Frenchman, and know what is due toladies of our station."
"In that respect, madame, I shall follow General Guillaume's example."
They were now among the gardens of Boercs, where the cherry-trees,heavily laden with fruit, rose above the tall hedges; and very soon theyturned into a beautiful street shaded by walnut-trees, which led to theredoubt. The parsonage was the only house of importance in the village.The pastor was standing at his door when Vavel ordered the coach tostop. He assisted the ladies to alight, and begged the pastor to grantthem the hospitality of his roof. The request was not refused, and theladies were made as comfortable as possible.
"Do you care to see the sights of the village, madame?" asked Vavel ofthe mother, after they had partaken of the lunch prepared by thepastor's housekeeper. The young lady, who was exhausted by the journey,had gone to her room. "There is a very old church here which isinteresting."
"Are there any fine pictures in it?" inquired madame.
"There is one,--a very touching scene,--'The Samaritan.'"
"Ancient or modern?" queried the lady.
"The subject is old--it dates back to the first years of Christianity,madame. The execution is modern."
"Is it the work of a celebrated artist?"
"No; it is the work of our c
The lady shook her head; she was uncertain whether Count Vavel wasmaking sport of her or of the pastor.
But she understood him when she entered the church. The houseconsecrated to the service of God had become a hospital, and was crowdedwith wounded French soldiers. The women of the village, as volunteernurses, were taking care of them, and performed the task as faithfullyas if the invalids were their own sons and brothers. The pastor himselfsupplied the necessary medicines from his own cupboard; for no armysurgeon came here at a time when twenty thousand wounded Frenchmen layat Aspern, and twenty-two thousand at Wagram.
"Is it not an affecting tableau, madame?" said Count Vavel. "It would bea suitable altar-piece for Notre Dame--and the name of its creatordeserves perpetuation!"